


White Flower (before the crimson stain of blood)

by Serie11



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon Compliant, During Timeskip (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Established Relationship, F/F, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Reflection, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22579837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serie11/pseuds/Serie11
Summary: On the long march to Garreg Mach, Lysithea takes a moment to reflect on the state of the war.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/Lysithea von Ordelia
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46
Collections: Femflash February 2020





	White Flower (before the crimson stain of blood)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VampirePaladin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampirePaladin/gifts).



Lysithea drops the flap of the tent behind her. The gathering of generals had meant that the tent was heated, overly so – but the freezing air outside is hardly much better. She’s always cold, though, and feels much more at ease in this temperature.

She looks up, and the snow that’s falling through the air is illuminated by the few torches that are strategically placed to give the most light possible for everyone while using the fewest resources. The coverage is good enough, but it does leave pools of shadow in the lees of tents and wagons, and Lysithea slips into one as she makes her way across camp.

The meeting had been _fine_ – they were always fine. Hubert runs them with an iron schedule, and refuses to let discussion go on pointlessly if it’s not going anywhere. She can see the beginning of the mountains, the foothills that lead up to the monastery. She stops near the edge of camp, unwilling to go any further even though she wants to. She’s never unarmed, of course, but if someone takes her by surprise… well, she feels more fragile than ever nowadays. Better not to risk anything.

She doesn’t know how she feels about going back to Garreg Mach. Yes, it’s a good central location, yes it’s defensible, she knows the arguments. The war is almost at a standstill, both sides growling at each other as they wait for the winter snows to clear so the fighting can continue. But the emotional ties she has to the monastery… she doesn’t know how she’ll feel when they arrive. Will they set up a different camp, or will they stay in their old rooms?

“Lysithea?”

She jumps a little, but there’s no magic singing at her fingertips when she turns. She knows that voice. Edelgard is still wearing her official clothes, and the red is a startling point of contrast against the dreary backdrop of the camp. Like a splash of blood against a man’s throat. Lysithea turns again, looking out towards the mountains.

“Didn’t you have to go and speak with the guards about the new rotations, or something?”

“Ferdinand is more than capable of organising such matters,” Edelgard says, coming to stand beside her. “What are you – ah.”

Even though the falling snow almost masks it, they’re close enough to see the foothills of the mountains, at least. Lysithea would look away to mask the flush on her cheeks at being found out so easily, but in the darkness there’s no need to. Edelgard won’t be able to see – and even if she could, Lysithea wouldn’t mind too much.

“It’s been so long,” she admits. “Seeing it all again…”

“The Church is gone, and it is unlikely we will encounter any resistance there,” Edelgard says firmly. “But even so, I still understand your hesitation.”

“Was it hard?” Lysithea asks, the words refusing to stay stuck in her throat any longer. “Lying to everyone, I mean. While we were there.”

Edelgard looks out towards the mountains. A snowflake lands on her cheek, and Lysithea watches as it melts. If Lysithea has trouble warming up, then Edelgard must be the opposite, always running hot. It marks them, their differences. As long as no one gets too close it’s easy enough to hide, but maybe Lysithea wants others to get close. That distance is just another reminder of what she cannot have.

“At the beginning, it was almost too easy,” Edelgard admits. “Hubert knew what I was doing, and supported it. Ferdinand had never endeared himself to me, and I knew the others by name only. What mattered was my goal – that is what matters. But as we grew closer as the year passed… it did grow harder. I wanted to tell you all, but I was… I didn’t know how you would react.” She sighs. “I was foolish. You all came to my side, when everything was revealed. I should have had more faith in you all.”

“Hpmf. You should have.”

Lysithea makes herself keep looking outwards, even when the snow crunches under Edelgard’s boots as the other woman turns towards her. Even through her gloves, her hands are warm, and pressed against her skin, they feel strong. Like Edelgard could hold anything and it wouldn’t break. Maybe that’s why Lysithea trusts her to hold the fate of Fódlan.

“I do trust you all now,” Edelgard murmurs. “I trust you, Lysithea. You have been by my side all these years, and I am grateful for that.” With the darkness, and the snow masking the sounds and the sight of the rest of the camp, Lysithea can almost pretend they’re alone. That it’s just the two of them, standing in the snow, still feeling out these tentative emotions that they have for one another. Edelgard’s lips are so hot – she leaves burning kisses in her wake. Lysithea can only wonder what she gives in return. Are her lips as cold as the rest of her?

“Well. I should hope so,” Lysithea says, but she’s looking at Edelgard’s mouth as she speaks.

Edelgard says nothing. Lysithea watches as another snowflake falls onto her skin and melts, leaving a drop of water in its place.

“Lysithea –”

“Edelgard –”

They both pause, then Edelgard laughs, a soft sound that surely only a few are privy to. “My apologies,” the Emperor says, a smile flirting with the edge of her mouth. “You were going to say?”

Lysithea swallows. “Just that… thank you for indulging me. You didn’t have to come out here.”

She wonders if she’s imagining the way Edelgard’s eyes gleam as they catch the light from a torch. “You’re never my indulgence,” Edelgard corrects. “I’m honoured by the time you spend with me. Especially since our time together might be short.”

Lysithea looks down at her hands. “Sometimes I think that you should be doing other things instead of spending your time with me.”

Edelgard’s hand moves from her shoulder to cup her cheek. “I spend my time how I wish,” Edelgard says firmly. “And I wish to spend it with you. Do you wish to spend your time with me?”

Lysithea leans over in answer. Edelgard’s lips are as heated as she remembers, a sharp and biting contrast to their chilly surroundings. When they part, a snowflake lands on the tip of Lysithea’s nose. It doesn’t melt, and she brushes it off absently. Their differences don’t matter as much as their similarities.

“Back to our tent, then?” Edelgard suggests. “We must break camp early in the morning. I wish to see the gates of Garreg Mach before the sun sets tomorrow.”

Lysithea nods. “Yes, retiring now would be wise.”

The look in Edelgard’s eyes makes her think that perhaps they won’t be wise. She follows her, Edelgard’s crimson cloak a flash in the dark to draw her ever forwards. Maybe this is how moths feel, knowing that flying towards the open flame can only bring their demise, and yet being unable to look away.

But maybe knowing that the war will continue tomorrow makes things even brighter tonight. She’s been denied enough things – a future, a family, a safe childhood. She’ll take what’s in front of her even if it means getting burnt in the process.

Intent on thinking of only the present, Lysithea follows Edelgard into their tent.

**Author's Note:**

> Receiving this assignment after Edelgard and Lysithea won CYL4 was VERY good. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
